


Taking Breaks

by rabbitheartbeats



Series: Ink and Quill [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Spoilers for everything, Spoilers for patch 5.2, a bit of angst, spoilers for shadowbringers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23916490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitheartbeats/pseuds/rabbitheartbeats
Summary: Rumour has it that the Exarch's name is known by the new barista at the Second Serving
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: Ink and Quill [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1465468
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	Taking Breaks

Everyone in the Crystarium knows that the Exarch’s foreign guests are the Warriors of Darkness. The white-haired Hume who has taken the Oracle of Light under his wing, the bewitching white-haired Mystel and the three Elves that had come from seemingly nowhere over the past few years - and of course the silver-haired Drahn woman. 

Most had not been sure what to make of their Exarch’s most recent guest. She had been just as oddly clueless as the rest of them, but there had been something _different_ about her. She was clearly no scholar, like Master Urianger or the Lady Y'shtola. Nor was she a diplomat like young Master Alphinaud. So exactly why the Exarch had gone through so much effort to track her down and invite her in particular from his homeland had been confusing - but it was not their place to ask.

The Exarch’s eagerness to welcome this particular guest of his, the way he had practically skipped down the road towards the gates of the city, the room in the Pendants he had set aside for her and the _handmade_ sandwiches he had personally delivered to her room when the night sky had returned to Il Mheg - had made it particularly obvious that the Exarch regarded the lady Kahkol rather highly. 

She had flitted in and about the entire Crystarium, sticking her scaly nose into anything and everything, doing any and every job with startling efficiency and skill. 

The Crystalline Mean could not stop singing the praises of Lady Kahkol to any and all who would listen. An expert craftswoman they had gushed, and her presence while greatly appreciated was somewhat understandable.

Then rumours began to spread about her combat ability, so it did not come as much of a surprise when the Cardinal Virtue hunters informed those at the Wandering Stairs - over multiple tankards of ale in Giott’s case - that the Drahn had slain the dreaded Sin Eaters. 

And then the night came back to Norvrandt everywhere the Exarch’s strange visitors went and - well, they too understood why the Exarch had been so particularly eager for this guest of his to arrive.

When the Warriors of Darkness had returned to the Crystarium with the Exarch - unhooded and his face visible to all - it had been like a fairy tale come to life. 

* * *

“Here’s your order!” a bright and chipper voice declares as a paper bag and cup are handed over with a brilliant smile.

Lyna stares somewhat blankly in confusion at the Warrior of Darkness wearing the Second Serving Cafe’s signature black apron as she counts the coins the Captain of the Guard has handed over in a confused daze.

“And here’s your change!” the silver-haired Drahn chirps as she deposits a smaller handful of gil into the Vii’s hand.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping out,” the saviour of Norvrandt smiles brightly - and Lyna has learned after prolonged contact with the Crystal Exarch that the Warrior of Darkness smiles in the _exact_ same way and that smile was one hundred certified percent _bullshit_. 

“Were you not supposed to be resting?”

“I am resting.” the much shorter woman continues to smile at her.

“This does not look like resting.”

There are bags under the woman’s eyes and if Lyna remembers what the Master of Suites had said, she had not returned to her room at the Pendants for the past few weeks.

Where she had been sleeping - if she had slept at all - was a mystery. 

“Didn’t your shift end three hours ago?” the Drahn fires back, unnervingly cheerful smile still affixed to her face.

“This is not for me,” Lyna retorts, and the sudden gleam in the Drahn’s silver-blue eyes has Lyna wondering what she must have said wrong. 

“Is it for Ra- I mean- the Exarch?” she starts exuberantly before her expression morphs from one of unnaturally manic cheer into solemn seriousness. “Isn’t _he_ supposed to be resting?”

Lyna is about to confirm that the Exarch is for once taking a break from his work. In fact he had asked her to grab him both a beverage and a coffee biscuit from the Second Serving, Lyna starts to say - before she realizes how easily duped she had been. 

The Second Serving has become incredibly popular lately. The lineups were long and reservations were unfortunately being deferred at this time. It was also exceedingly difficult to order ahead of time and it _was_ on the other side of the Crystarium. 

He had seemed so innocent and grandfatherly when he had made that request to her, that she had forgotten how clever a man he was. The Crystal Exarch has apparently conspired to send Lyna on a two hour long quest for pastries to stop her from dragging him to his bed.

She was going to throttle the old man. 

The Warrior of Darkness’s expression is now almost petulant. 

“ _Scholars_ ,” she mutters the word like it is an expletive before pulling out a pen and practically snatching the cup back and fiddling with it behind the counter.

“There. Give that to him.” she declares as she returns the Exarch’s coffee into Lyna’s possession. “That should get him out of his office. I'd drag him out myself, but m'shift isn't over for another three hours." 

Three hours?! Did the woman _sleep_? Lyna takes a deep breath. The Warrior of Darkness’s sleeping patterns are not her problem right now. The Exarch’s are. 

"You didn't spike it with dream powder did you?"

"I did _not!_ It didn’t even work when I tried," the Drahn protests to several other increasingly agitated patrons’ concerns. "He’s always been like this,” she grumbles mostly to herself. “Five years or a hundred, Raha still finds a way to make me worry.”

"... Raha?" Lyna echoes, and the Warrior of Darkness face contorts into an expression of shock.

"I mean guh- the Exarch!"

“His name is Raha?” Lyna demands incredulously. While the man had revealed his face to all, his name had remained yet another mystery that all of the Crystarium had been too polite to inquire about.

“G’raha!” the Warrior of Darkness says insistently, and Lyna does not know why but the woman is beginning to flush red in embarrassment. “Don’t tell the others I called him that.” 

“Oi! What’s the hold up with the line?!” 

“His name is on the cup. That’ll get him out of his office,” she says as she shoos the Crystarium Captain of the Guard away and turning to the next customer in line. 

Lyna takes her leave and makes her way towards the Dossal gates. Curiosity gets the better of her and she looks down at the cup the Warrior had decorated.

A childish scrawl of an angry face has taken over one side of the paper cup, as well as a messy scribble in a script that Lyna can barely make out. She remembers having seen such script in one of the tomes from the Exarch’s homeland when she was a child. 

The language is not all that dissimilar from Norvrandt’s own but the Warrior of Darkness’s handwriting is atrocious.

“Grahapa Tia?” Lyna sounds it out as she thinks she has grasped the slant of the Warrior’s calligraphy. That is a strange sounding name. Well the people from the Exarch’s homeland all had strange names. She shrugs and makes her way past the guard and ascends the Tower to the Exarch's office.

She finds the Exarch exactly where she had left him, at his desk poring over what must be at least six different tomes at once, the slightest hint of a smile as he jots down another note.

Lyna clears her throat as she approaches, startling the Exarch who very ungracefully shoves whatever he was working on under one of his open tomes, his ears twitching violently. 

“Captain Lyna!” he smiles guiltily at her. “What brings you here?”

She raises the small brown paper bag of coffee biscuits that he had requested along with the beverage the Warrior of Darkness claimed to have not drugged. 

“The errand you sent me on,” she says lightly enough and the Exarch’s expression brightens somewhat at the smell wafting in from the bag. 

“Ah, thank you.” he smiles and Lyna’s face softens. Knowing that the Exarch likely has not eaten anything since the early hours of the morning when she had practically force fed him his tea, she does not have the heart to hold the pastries hostage. 

“I learned something interesting down by the Second Serving,” Lyna decides to see if there was a kernel of truth to what the Warrior of Darkness had written.

“Oh?” he says as he raises his paper cup to his lips, not having given the scratch-like markings a second look.

“Grahapa Tia.”

The Exarch’s coffee erupts from the man’s lips as he splutters - his desk and the precious tomes thereupon saved only by a hastily cast wind spell. 

“B-beg pardon?!”

“Your name?”

“That’s not my name.” Grahapa Tia declares firmly, and the man looks absolutely nothing like the Crystarium’s mysterious benevolent caretaker. He looks like an extremely embarrassed young Mystel man.

“It’s what they wrote on the cup,” Lyna smiles innocently. “Grahapa.”

The beginnings of a pout start to cross over the Exarch’s face which he promptly schools into an expression more appropriate for the de facto ruler of the Crystarium. 

“ _Who_ wrote on the cup?” he asks, to which Lyna lets a smirk grace her features.

“One of the Second Serving’s new employees I believe. Truth be told I can’t quite recall their name.” Lyna continues on. “They mentioned that their shift would not be over for another three hours or so.”

“I see.” The Exarch states neutrally, as he picks up his staff. “I suppose I shall have to speak with this employee about spreading misinformation.”

“I suppose you should, my lord Grahapa.”

The look the Exarch sends her is nothing short of withering.

“It’s G’raha. Just… Just G’raha,” he sighs as he ushers her out of his office and the tower, the doors sealing shut after him.

Well what did you know, Lyna smiles as she watches the man who had raised her march in the direction of the Crystarium's most popular cafe. The Warrior was right. It had worked.

* * *

He’s not sure which of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn he is going to have to throttle for this. His first instinct was to immediately name Krile as the culprit, except his good friend - best friend really - had not been brought to the First.

If the Crystal Exarch was a betting man, his money would be on either Thancred or perhaps even Y’shtola as the likely culprits. Mayhaps Urianger - the man and the pixies did get along quite well - the man was not above petty revenge.

“Lord Grahapa!” a guard nods respectfully as he passes and G’raha Tia sighs tiredly once again. He’s not sure how far the Scions have spread this particular lie, but at the rate this ridiculous name is beginning to spread he would either have to hold a council meeting to set the record straight or resign himself to being called Grahapa by the entirety of the Crystarium.

In a way, he supposes, he should not be surprised to find the Warrior of Darkness leaning against a broomstick as she chats amiably with the young Oracle of Light and her friend, who are listening with rapt attention and feigned disinterest respectively to whatever tale she is regaling them with.

G’raha’s hero has never been much one for words, much less conversation - the remnants of a younger woman, nervous and self-conscious about her accent - but she is an animated speaker, her hands and tail speaking volumes for what her words do not.

He approaches the table and finds himself just standing there, listening to his Warrior make a story of a distant unforgettable memory of his.

“So I’m standing there, up to my knees in boar guts and this smug _bastard_ who didn’t even have the balls to show himself starts shoutin’ from the trees all ‘bout how he’s already gotten the water-aspected rocks,” she shakes her head ruefully at that, a tired grin growing on her face. 

“I wanted to yell a few choice words at ‘im there, but then he says he wants to race for the wind-aspected aethersand. He’s nice enough to tell me where it’s at, ‘cept it’s on the whole other side of the godsdamned forest, right in the middle of an Ixali camp.”

“Ixali?” Ryne repeats confusedly as she takes a bite of her coffee biscuit..

“The Ixal are a tribe of featherless birdmen from our homeland,” the Exarch smoothly cuts into the conversation, smiling kindly at the girl.

“Exarch!” the young Oracle of Light exclaims in surprise, her hands coming up to her mouth in surprise while the Warrior of Darkness does not spare him so much as a glance before returning back to her story.

“So I have to make my way tothe logging grounds - and the Ixal don’t like anyone that don’t look like them - so I have to fight my way through, and this _jerk_ doesn’t even have the decency to lend a hand to a young lady in distress.”

“You were hardly in distress,” G’raha Tia remarks as he remembers the way he had watched her - spellbound - as she tore her way through the Ixal at a dizzying speed.

“A young lady in _distress_ ,” the Champion of Eorzea, slayer of gods, liberator of nations and saviour of two worlds repeats firmly and at greater volume, still refusing to acknowledge his presence.

“A delicate maiden in _mortal peril_ and this mysterious individual did not so much as lift a finger to aid her!”

“The Ixal were hardly a threat to you my dear Warrior. I also recall you commenting on multiple occasions that my aim is, what was that word you used? Ah yes. Abysmal. Like your handwriting.”

The familiar dig at her awful penmanship earns him a snappy little look and the tiniest twitch of her lips that was very nearly a smile. G’raha feels his heart stutter a little at that look as she returns to her story.

"Anyway,I deal with the Ixal and find the blasted green rocks so at least Cid won’t kill me for coming back empty handed. Well my mysterious observer decides to pipe up again to tell me he's left me a prize in the shallows and that we’ll meet again at some point. Well I’m set to meet this fellow and introduce him to my boot, but loot is loot and maybe it would give me a clue towards finding this lout.”

G’raha finds himself smiling at the memory, the glee and excitement that had filled him at having gone toe to toe in a race with Eorzea’s most talked about adventurer - not that he had fully thought through the consequences of annoying the woman who had bested Gaius van Baelsar in single combat. 

“So I head over there and what do I find? The godsdamned water aethersand,” The Warrior of Darkness groans to Ryne’s laughter. “He’s lucky that Rammbroes said we needed him, otherwise I’d have drowned him in the lake.”

“You expressed your annoyance rather clearly if I recall correctly, and you pushed me into the lake twice. Threw me really.” he amends as he scratches at his face, hiding the growing grin on his face as she pouts

“You hadn’t bathed in a fortnight - I was doing you and the rest of the camp a favour.” she says waving a hand dismissively before turning to him and grinning devilishly. “So what brings you to the Second Serving, my lord?” 

The title sends shivers up his spine - whether of discomfort at being spoken to so respectfully by the one he respects the most in all of the worlds or something _else_ he’s not sure.

“Please don’t call me that,” he sighs. “I came here because it seems that an individual at the Second Serving was spreading unsavoury rumours about me.”

“Unsavoury rumours? Really?” she says in mock horror. “About our dear Exarch?”

“You know very well what you’ve started.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about _Grahapa_.” she smirks at him.

Ryne giggles while her new dark-haired friend looks between him and the Warrior of Darkness, heavily rouged lips pursed in annoyance.

“Is this flirting?” she demands. “Is this how you two flirt with each other?”

“What?!” G’raha exclaims while his Warrior bursts into unrestrained laughter which brings a surly-looking Ronso out of the kitchen. 

“Oi! Get back to work! I don’t pay you to - oh Exarch!” The big man promptly deflates the moment he lays eyes on him, his eyes going between the faces gathering around the corner table of his cafe. 

"A thousand pardons, I was hoping to have a word with your employee here,” G’raha smiles gently at the man whose eyes have grown as wide as saucers at seeing the Warrior of Darkness wearing his shop’s apron.

“O-Of course sir! Take your time!” the man stammers before retreating to the kitchens again.

They watch the man go and Ryne looks a little mortified.

“Are we causing him trouble? Gaia and I have kept you here for so long and -”

“S’all right Ryne,” the Auri woman reassures the girl, patting her gently on the shoulder. “I don’t work here. I was just waiting for Lord _Grahapa_ to show up.” she says tossing the apron aside.

The Exarch looks at the Warrior of Darkness and he is not sure if or why he is surprised. As far as ruses to drag him out of his office, this was one of the most unorthodox. 

“You are absolutely awful.” he accuses the Warrior of Darkness. “Half the Crystarium has been greeting me by that ridiculous name.”

“Lyna does quick work,” is all the woman with horns as black as her soul laughs lightly, spiked tail swaying in a pleased cadence. “If I had known that this is all it would take to get you out of the tower I’d have done it years ago.” 

Her smug grin is abruptly broken by a huge yawn and G’raha notices how _exhausted_ his Warrior looks. There are bags under her eyes and it is clear to him that the broom she is leaning on is more than likely the only thing keeping the woman upright. She hides it well enough in front of the girls but G’raha has seen her like this on more than one occasion. 

It was the sort of exhaustion that he had seen every time she dragged herself back to the Crystarium after the defeat of another Lightwarden, and even before that, when her journey brought her back to Mor Dhona after the vanquishing of yet another dangerous primal. 

Except there were no more Lightwardens, and she had been here in the First for the past three days. 

“Well your ingenious plan has worked, hero,” he laughs lightly, his crystal hand reaching out to touch her face, before catching himself and instead trying to pull the broom away from her. 

“So when was the last time you actually slept?”

“When did you?” she retorts, as she tugs the broom back.

“Wicked white, they _are_ flirting.” Gaia groans getting to her feet immediately and pulling Ryne from her chair as well. “We’re leaving.” the girl declares haughtily, the Oracle of Light waving behind her like a white flag as the click of her heels echoes throughout the now mostly empty cafe. 

“S-See you later!” Ryne calls out. “Wait! Gaia slow down!”

G’raha watches the Warrior watch the girls leave, a fond smile on her face, before she turns her face towards him. Her expression stern and worried. 

“So what’s this I hear about you overworking yourself, Grahapa?”

“Please stop calling me that. And I could very well ask the same of you.”

“Well you’re the one who keeps calling yourself an old man. And I have it on good authority that the elderly require at least five naps per day, and far more than a cup of tea and one coffee biscuit to sustain them.”

“Having helped raise more than a few children in the Crystarium myself, I believe I am qualified to say that youngsters such as yourself need at minimum sixteen hours of sleep a day.”

“I can and will toss you into a lake G’raha Tia, don’t think being three hundred years old will stop me,” she warns him, quickly slipping beneath his guard to brandish her broom threateningly at his neck. And something stirs deep in his gut at the way she says his name.

Her quick movements are not without cost - given how tired she is, and her stance wobbles. G’raha is quick to catch her.

“I’m fine!” she mumbles. “Just a little dizzy.”

“When was the last time you ate something?” 

“Lunch.”

“What was it.”

“Food.”

G’raha sighs. 

“Well then Miss Kahkol, when did you last sleep?”

“When Mally and Sela caught me with a chain of sleeping spells.” she admits sullenly. G’raha starts at that - that would have to be at least four days ago! She hadn’t slept since coming to the First?!

“Well then,” he says easily scooping her legs out from under her and lifting her up and into his arms - from the corner of his eye he sees the Ronso baker step out of the back room only to turn right back around and retreat once more to the kitchen. 

He doesn’t want to think about what sort of rumours are going to be spread about on the morrow - he has more pressing matters to deal with.

“I believe there is a suite in the Pendants and a bed with your name on it.”

“I’m not an invalid Raha! I can walk!” she protests as she squirms in his arms and a shiver runs up his spine at the use of his name in its most intimate form

He also notes that she’s not really fighting him on this. If she wanted, there was no prison in this world or the next that could hold her and yet she seemed perfectly content to remain where she is in his arms. 

In fact she seems almost inordinately pleased with herself. 

“Well given how you managed to misspell my name, forgive me if I mistrust your muscle control at this time,” he says jokingly and that earns him a reprimanding smack from her tail against his side. 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with my spelling!”

“I have multiple documents in my office that are very much proof to the contrary. There is only one ‘g’ in Allag my dear Warrior.”

Most of the Crystarium is staring at him as he passes by with the Warrior of Darkness in his arms. He wonders if it would not have been less trouble to have teleported to the Tower, but she seems to be enjoying this - waving to her many acquaintances as he carries her to the Pendants. 

He almost wishes he had at least an arm free to pull his cowl back over his head to hide how red his face has gotten. 

“Embarrassed Raha?” she grins up at him, silver-blue eyes filled with mischief and he feels like his chest and face is about to explode.

“Please don’t call me that in public,” he pleads, as his heart pounds wildly. 

“It’s your name isn’t it?” she continues on - like the horrible, awful person that she is. “And I don’t remember hearing any complaints about me calling you that when you had your c-”

“I will drop you,” he threatens her as he feels his blush travel to the tips of his hair and she laughs, wrapping an arm around his neck burrowing her face into his shoulder, her horns rubbing somewhat uncomfortably into his chest. 

He’s not sure which he finds more embarrassing, the rumours about his name being Grahapa or the ones that are going to begin circulating as to the exact nature of his relationship with the Warrior of Darkness. 

The rest of the way to the Pendants is uneventful, beyond his pounding heart and the manager of the building startling out of his chair at the sight of the Exarch carrying the Warrior of Darkness in.

“I-Is everything alright?” the elf stammers in shock as he pulls himself to his feet. “Do I need to call one of the medics or someone from Spagyrics?”

“I’m fine!” Moxi Kahkol attempts to wave away the elf’s concern the way she always does whenever anyone tries to worry about her. “ _Grahapa_ here thinks that I’m too tired to walk on my own two feet.”

“Please stop calling me that,” he groans, sounding very much not like the wise and mysterious Crystal Exarch and far more like the young scholar of Allag he had been. 

“Well you’re the one who told me not to call you by your _actual_ name,” her attempt at a pout morphs into a bone cracking yawn.

“If you will excuse us.” G’raha nods politely to the elf as he treads the familiar path to her room. 

Opening the door takes more than a little effort on his part given his occupied hands.

He manages to set her down on her bed, only for her to refuse to remove her arms from around his person. 

“Yesui,” he says gently, using the true name she had given him centuries ago. The name she let him use when it was just the two of them. “I have to go.” as he tries to get her to release him.

“No.” she says, burying her face deeper into his robes, her hold becoming tighter and dragging him down towards the bed. “Don’t get to call me that when you’re being stupid.”

“You’re exhausted,” he tries. "You need to rest.”

“So are you. Don’t lie Raha. You’re an awful liar.” she says looking up at him with a glare from beneath her lashes and G’raha feels his throat go dry.

“I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep,” he tries but her glare only grows fiercer.

“No.” she states firmly and G’raha finds himself flat on his back on the bed with the Warrior of Darkness sitting on top of him. 

“You’re not allowed to go back into the tower unless I’m there with you. Alisaie said your life is mine, so you don’t get to lock yourself away without my say-so. But you’re stupid and I can’t break down the doors, not then or now, so I have to be stupid too!” she rambles somewhat incoherently.

“Wait, you mean you-!” he says as he pushes himself up on his elbows to glare at her. 

She had done this on purpose. He knows that she was always one to forget the hour, but how completely reckless of her! 

“Don’t use your health as an-” he starts angrily, only for her to interrupt him by grabbing his face between her hands.

“I’ve told you before. You _don’t_ get to complain how I go about this.” she snaps, before pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and the memory hits him like a punch to the gut.

It had been before the arrival of Doga and Unei, and he had been racking his brain for a solution to open the doors to Syrcus Tower. He had been close - so close to finding an answer, when he had found himself unceremoniously tossed onto a chocobo and dragged to the lakeside and thrown into the shallows, still fully clothed. Before he could even protest such rough treatment a bar of soap had nailed him right between the eyes sending him toppling over into the lake.

He hadn’t eaten much over the past few days and honestly could not remember the last time he had bathed, and the Champion of Eorzea had not appreciated coming back to a tent that reeked of unwashed Miqo’te. 

_“If you’re not going to take care of yourself, you don’t get to complain about how I go about it.”_ she had declared angrily, before blushing adorably and turning her head away from his thoroughly soaked form and asking for his clothes so that she could clean them.

He has come a long way from that hungry, brash, malodorous young scholar. Bound to the tower as he is, the mortal limits of his body now far exceed his Warrior's own - so long as he remains within the Crystarium, he is functionally immortal - eating and sleeping are not necessary for him. 

The Warrior of Darkness was very much not immortal - a fact that burned all too brightly in his brain, and while he had watched her face off against horrors and shrugged off blows that would fell lesser heroes, she needed her rest. 

G’raha slumps back in defeat against her sheets. Smiling at her victory she presses a quick, peck against his lips before lowering herself to nestle in at his side.

“This is hardly fair,” he mumbles as she wraps her arms around him, effectively trapping him in place. She was never one to take chances.

“Nope,” she says, a small smile pressing itself into his neck.

“You should not be using your safety and wellbeing as a threat,” he starts to reprimand her as his eyelids grow heavy. Perhaps he was just a _little_ tired, he thinks as she shifts a bit and he wraps his arms around her and breathes in the scent of her hair.

“I’ll use whatever works,” she mumbles as her breathing begins to slow. “I _will_ throw you into the lake if you’re not here when I wake up.” 

Well he supposes he will just have to stay then.

**Author's Note:**

> When the Exarch and Warrior of Darkness don't come out of her rooms until late afternoon the next day with the Exarch looking a little dishevelled, the Crystarium rumour mill goes WILD.  
> Warriors of Light? Starshowers and creepy voices? Who cares about that stuff?! Is the Exarch banging the Hero of Norvrandt?! That's the important question that needs answers! 
> 
> This was initially going to be just something stupid, but then the idea of the Exarch being forced to princess carry the WoD across the Crystarium happened.


End file.
